The otherwise quiet morning over the Ural mountains is suddenly shattered by the deafening roar of a large Pratt & Whitney F135 engine shattering the quiet calm, its crackling afterburner burning like a dragon's breath as the sound of shattering sound barriers filled the valley.
Pulling my aircraft hard around a bend, I felt the blood rush from my head as the airframe strained around me, as I pulled out of the turn at Mach(1) 1.03, flying directly towards a hill at the other end of the valley.
*Over G! Over G! Warning! Low Altitude! Warning low Altitude! PULL UP! PULL UP!*
I pulled the nose up, shooting up over the ridge as my AN/APG-81 phased array radar crackled to life, the radar screen filling with contacts as I cycled through TWS(2) locks until I found my target. 43 degrees off the nose, and 17 kilometers out flying at 5000 meters. Was a flight of three aircraft. 1 Ilyushin Il-96-300PU, escorted by two Su-57’s.
Working quickly, I hastily filtered through my plane's weapons systems, and selected my AIM-260’s and designated the first target, and felt the mechanical thump, temporary drag, and sudden drop in weight as an AIM-260 dropped from my internal bays. Targeting the Il-96.
“FOX 3!”(3)
Working quickly, I felt my stress build as my RWR(4) began to ping more rapidly, my plane still gaining altitude.
Less than a second after the first, my second missile launched, its motor firing as it pulled away from my plane, drawing a parabola into the sky as it quickly climbed high into the atmosphere.
“FOX 3”
Pulling past 1000 meters above the mountains below, I felt my stress build as my RWR identified an 92N2E radar pinging in my general direction. Just as my third AIM-260 left its rails, the brief moment when the internal bays opened to release the missile, perfectly lining up with the ping, as the beep of my RWR was replaced by a constant tone.
‘SHIT!’
I pulled my plane down, just 13 seconds after I left the safety of the valley, as I flew beyond the mountain range, now flying over a relatively flat area of field, as chaff poured from the rear of my plane. In an attempt to break lock, as I flew at the limit of my radar gimbal, hoping to guide my missiles further in before I’m forced to break lock and defend.
‘Come on, Just a bit longer.’
Finally, a few seconds later, I hear the dreaded words.
*Warning !Missile! 3 o'clock high! Missile 3 o'clock high! Warning! Chaff flare! Warning!*
‘Fuck’
I pull my plane hard, Breaking my locks, as the Three missiles instantly go pitbull(5), less than 5KM from their target, well within the effective range of the AIM-260’s, I just hope it's enough. As I pull myself into a notch(6), My plane still dumping chaff, the lock tone of the fire control radar disappearing, now replaced by a missile lock, as every EWAR(7) suite on the plane lights up, as it begins doing everything it can to confuse the 48N6E missile tracking me, as I adjust my notch.
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I continue to fly, chaff dumping, and jammers firing incessantly, as I am forced to wait, unable to do anything but maintain my notch, and hope the missile goes stupid(8).
Finally, 3 plums of smoke appear on the horizon within a few seconds of one another, as pieces of metal trailing fire and black smoke spiral towards the ground below, telling of my missile's successful hits. ‘Good, now I just need to survive this.’
Catching sight of a missile trail rapidly closing in on me, I watch it in rapt attention as It grows closer, still dumping chaff, as I watch it track me, coming down from the sky at a small angle.
Finally, I pull up my plane slightly, and watch as the large missile sails 15 meters below and behind me, before impacting the side of a mountain a few moments later, and I sigh, before dropping down to the deck and dropping my afterburner, my tanks already worryingly low, as I do my best to avoid radars, slowly making my way back to base.
20 minutes later, I wait in a landing pattern around the airbase, until finally the air control tower connects, and I come in for a landing. Pulling into my assigned hanger a few minutes later, as I pull off my helmet, step out of the cockpit, and look out over the adoring crowd, as I am handed a trophy for winning the esports event.
It had been a long, enduring campaign between two teams simulating a war between the United states and Russia, set in 2025, in the world's most popular game, Warthunder3. A game that was released in 2030, after Gaijin entertainment and DCS got bought up by an incredibly rich fan of Miltech games, resulting in the creation of Warthunder2, a game that combined both Genres, creating a full dive, hyper realistic combat game, with arcade options, where you could play any kind of military vehicle, separated into faction specific tech tree’s, which you could progress through by participating in battles and earning RP and SL.
I had just won the world cup, a variation of the game that included Rts and Rtt elements to create a realistic war scenario, a variation often requiring large teams to win, I had made a name for myself by playing solo.
The game was only won when you defeated the enemy general, and that, was exactly what I had just done, blowing up the fleeing general in his Il-96 after I began to advance on moscow, which I then used as a chance to assassinate him with a behind enemy lines strike with an F35.
I stared out over the crowd, blinded by the flashes of cameras, holding the trophy high, as I looked at the other team, bitter in their defeat, as they looked on at me, who had solo beaten their entire team.
And they couldn’t even complain, after all, it was a best of 3, we both played both sides, and it was only whomever won both first that won the tournament.
“ANNND THERE IT IS FOLKS! THE END OF THE 2037 WT3 TOURNAMENT! WITH OUR RETURNING CHAMP! THE FIRST PLACE WINNER FOR 7 YEARS! WINNING SOLO EVERY TIME! NOX! THORNLEAF!”
And the crowd went wild. Before I suddenly fell down, clutching my chest in pain, the trophy landing next to me, as security rushed onto the stage and brought me away as I lost consciousness.
Only to wake up again, staring out over a large, beautiful planet, covered in multiple large continents, and ever kind of biome imaginable
and before me, a choice.
“Welcome to the War Thunder system! Please choose your starting nation!”
(1): 1 Mach = speed of sound
(2): Tws = Track while scan, a form of radar system that allows you to track contacts while also continuing to search for more with the same radar.
(3): Fox 3 = the designation for active radar missiles such as the aim-120, aim-260, and aim-54.
(4): Pitbull = when a Fox 3 missile switches to its own internal radar for tracking.
(5): RWR = Radar warning receiver, detects when a radar is looking at/tracking you.
(6): Notch = A maneuver where you fly at an angle relative to the radar that makes it harder to track you by making you move at the same speed relative to the radar as the ground.
(7): EWAR = Electronic warfare, in the context of War jets refers to things like missile/radar jammers.
(8): Going stupid = when a missile loses lock, locks onto something else, or doesn’t track.